I've been at a bit of a loss for words lately. Many things have happened here, and each time I've had a reason, whether personal or professional, for choosing silence over writing, and I've just left it at that. I'm well aware that I'm out of the habit of writing now, but I'm also aware that I have to be very careful of what I say, because my name is now well enough known in the library world that my co-workers can easily google my name and turn up this site.

How to say? How to acknowledge? Privacy means privacy, and thankfully I'm notable for being able to state the obvious in words that make things not so, so perhaps this is the best way to break through a multiple-month logjam of silence and say what needs saying.(Inscrutable? Sorry; this is a private message posted semi-publicly.)

There is no 'me and you,' and never has been; this funny friendship has meant many things over the years, most unspoken and unacknowledged, but there for both of us. Easter brought you back to me, reminded me of why I have Life A here in Huntsville and Life B in Atlanta, reminded me of why I think the drive is worth it and why I'm unlikely ever to have a life, singular, in one place or the other.

It's funny; I remember how this tasted when she made it, and I thought it would be much more complicated. I suspect, as usual, that the devil is thoroughly in the details. If I remember correctly, Karen's version also contained homemade pesto, real parmigiano-reggiano cheese, full-fat ricotta and homemade marinara sauce. I'm betting that's probably why we all fought for rights to fall face-first into the baking dish.